


Echoes

by yamcasserole



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Gen, Like really post-Hephaestus, Post-Hephaestus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamcasserole/pseuds/yamcasserole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had put the Hephaestus behind them, to varying degrees of success.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

     The bar was popular with the older crowd. Its nondescript exterior belied a lively scene inside, with people talking, laughing, and dancing to the band playing hits from their youth. Renée Minkowski sat at a table in the corner, nursing a glass of wine and watching the band play. A book lay abandoned across from her on the table- it turned out that noise and dim light were, in fact, poor reading conditions. She was idly wondering if her husband was about ready to leave when a woman approached her table. 

     "Mind if I sit? I'm sorry to intrude, but there's nowhere else-"

     "No, of course! Please, sit."

     The woman sank down into the chair opposite Minkowski, wincing slightly. Minkowski looked on sympathetically.

     "Aging's a joy, eh? Lifetime of rock climbing and trail hiking takes its toll," she said wryly. The zero-gravity probably hadn't helped matters, either. They sat quietly, as if trying to gauge the other's willingness to partake in conversation, Minkowski debating whether it would appear rude if she made an excuse to leave this awkward position. Finally, the stranger spoke.

     "Do you come here often?" she asked, looking around the room appraisingly. "Is it always like  _this_?" She glanced at the people crowding the room. "I was kind of hoping to just have a drink in peace."

     "It's always like this," Minkowski confirmed. "I'm not one for excessive socialization either, but my husband likes this place. He's very much an extrovert," she said, gesturing towards a tall man standing in the midst of a large group, waving his hands animatedly as he spoke. Minkowski smiled. "With the amount of times he's sat through  _Pirates of Penzance_ , it's only fair that we go out once in a while. And the band here is quite good."

     They made small talk for a while, burning through the list of conversation topics until they reached a wall. Minkowski tried not to stare, but there was something familiar about this woman. She could have sworn she knew her from somewhere, but that was ridiculous- they'd only just met. Her memory must be playing tricks on her again. Still, something about the stranger's tone, the way she carried herself, maybe-

     "Well. It's time I got going. It's getting late," said the woman, standing up. "Thank you for the conversation... I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name. I don't think we ever properly introduced ourselves."

     "Renée," Minkowski supplied. The stranger's brow furrowed. 

     "Renée," she said slowly, thinking. "I'm Isabel." Minkowski froze.

     "Lovelace?"

     "Minkowski." They stared at each other, at a loss for words. 

     "My god. It's been so long," breathed Minkowski.

     "Can't have been less than forty years," Lovelace agreed in a low voice.

     "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

     "Nor did I." They stood in silence, thrust back in time to the day a group of frightened people carried each other out of the smoldering corpse of a makeshift spaceship, blinded by the sunlight and flashing cameras. 

     "I wanted to forget," Minkowski blurted out. "At first. Distance myself from it. I didn't even get anyone's contact information." Lovelace nodded. 

     "We all took a similar approach, I think. We thought it was for the best. To move on."

     "But it wasn't. We had a support system, the only other people who understood what we'd been through, and we just threw it away. I lost my crew, all of them, and I regret that. I regret it very much."

     "It's easier the second time," Lovelace muttered. Minkowski raised her eyebrows. "No," Lovelace amended. "It never gets easier." She paused for a moment, considering, before taking a pen from her purse and scribbling a phone number on the inside cover of Minkowski's book, earning a grimace from the other woman. "Call me. Or something. Fifty years too late, I know, and I just ruined your book, but-" she was cut off as Minkowski swept her into a hug. Lovelace floundered for a few moments before reciprocating in kind. 

     "It's good to see you again," Minkowski murmured. 

     "Yeah. You too." Lovelace took a cautious step back, releasing Minkowski. "Anyway, I, um, do still have to leave, so-"

     "Right. Of course," Minkowski said, smiling wistfully. "You'll be hearing from me soon, Captain." Lovelace grinned. 

     "I look forward to it, Commander."


	2. A Search, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of some wild goose chase. Plus, yellow cars, Pryce and Carter, and a getaway vehicle.

     They arranged to meet at a quiet cafe a few days later to catch up. Lovelace arrived ten minutes before the agreed-upon time to find Minkowski already there, sitting in a sunny spot and reading the same book from the other day. 

     "You haven't been here all morning, have you?" Lovelace jested, pulling up a chair. "Do you make it a point to arrive an hour early to everything?"

     "Just reasonably punctual, I'd say," smiled Minkowski, shutting her book. "So. What have you been up to lately? Care to discuss what you've been doing all these years?" Lovelace shifted in her seat.

     "There's not much to talk about, really," she said placidly. "After the Goddard suit, I moved out west, got a job. Nothing exciting." She was nonchalant, but something in her tone indicated that further questioning would be unnecessary and unwelcome. "How about you?"

     "Well, things went back to normal. I got a job with NASA, moved around a lot. My husband and I got to travel the world, and eventually we retired here." The two women spoke in a light but cautious way, daring each other with careful glances to say what they were both thinking.  _Liar._ Each knew that the truth was not so straightforward. Neither said so.

     "You'd think we'd have more to talk about," Minkowski said, "having escaped the tin can from hell together." Lovelace shrugged. 

     "If you think about it, the tin can from hell is about the  _only_ thing we have to talk about. And I don't want to discuss it."

     "Fair enough," Minkowski conceded. "It's funny how that works. We went through all that crap, but take away the spaceship and we're like strangers. We know each other, work well together, but we don't know anything  _about_ each other."

     "True. I mean, I didn't even know you were married until we got back to Earth," Lovelace said wryly. "We ought to get to know each other better. Start a book club," she deadpanned. Minkowski gave a short laugh. 

     "That's actually not a bad idea, Lovelace. I could do with another hobby. All joking aside, though, we should-" She trailed off, lost in thought. Lovelace frowned.

     "Minkowski? You alright?" 

     "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I've got an idea," she said cautiously. Lovelace gave her a quizzical look. "Would you say you're good at finding people, tracking them down?"

     "Don't you think we're a little old to go hunt down Cutter? I think the lawsuit got him pretty badly, although that's not to say I wouldn't be willing to get some more revenge, provided he's even alive still," Lovelace said with a forced lightness in her voice. Minkowski sighed.

     "You know that's not what I meant. My crew. Do you think we can find them?"

     "Of course you would get an idea like that into your head."

     "Well?" Minkowski persisted impatiently. Lovelace took a measured breath and looked her in the eye. 

     "Look, I know how much this must mean to you. And yes, it would be nice to get some closure. But please don't get your hopes up. Don't get your heart set on a good ol' reunion, because I can guarantee you that the people who walked onto the Hephaestus excited to be part of a deep-space mission are very different from the people who stumbled out of a wrecked spaceship, who are very different from who we are now. Things aren't going to change just because you throw a quaint little anniversary get-together."

     "I never said it would fix anything. Trust me, I'm not taking this lightly. But I need to see them again. These people were my responsibility to keep safe for years, and the moment we made it home I just walked away without saying goodbye. I can't just leave it like that."

     "So where do we start?"

     "Just like that? I wasn't expecting you to agree so quickly," Minkowski commented dryly.

     "Well, I'm bored, and I'm not actually too keen on the idea of a book club, you see," Lovelace said casually. Minkowski laughed.

     "Lovely. I'm glad to know I have your enthusiastic support."

     "In all seriousness, though, I- I've got your back. Let's do this."

 

\---

 

     "I hate research," Lovelace groaned, fiddling with the brightness of her computer screen. "We've been here all day and we don't have any new leads to show for it."

     "The library closes in an hour," Minkowski said, checking the time. "We can't just give up. Might as well work for a bit more."

     "Minkowski, none of our initial ideas panned out, we don't even know where to look next, and neither of us has done any productive work for at least thirty minutes. Look at you. You're playing solitaire. It might be best to just come back to this tomorrow."

     "I'll have you know that this is a carefully scheduled break to maximize my productivity. And it's not as though we're stuck. We'll think of something else in no time." 

     "Mmhm." Lovelace swiveled around in her chair. "Let's face it: we've gotten nowhere. We're no closer to finding Eiffel. He could be anywhere, and don't even get me started on-"

     "Hera."

     "Sorry, what?"

     "Hera, too. She-"

     "Was legally property of Goddard and very likely destroyed soon after they took her away from us," Lovelace finished somberly. "I'm sorry, Minkowski, but I just don't think she's still alive." Minkowski didn't seem convinced.

     "Where does it all go? The parts they used to build new ships from the old scraps? Obviously now that Goddard... It would be abandoned... hang on." She turned to her computer and began to type furiously. "Here. One of those conspiracy websites, 'haunted' places, all that... There's a warehouse that supposedly belonged to a defunct corporation that once held a monopoly on space exploration. It's not explicitly stated, but-"

     "Sounds like Goddard, alright," Lovelace agreed, leaning over to look at the website. "You think she'd be there?"

     "It's worth a try. Even if Hera isn't there, they might have files that could be helpful in finding the others. It's not impossibly far from here either. You up for a road trip, Lovelace?"

 

\---

 

     "Yellow car," Lovelace drawled, punching Minkowski lightly on the arm. "The score now stands three-one to me."

     "I hate road trips," Minkowski muttered, tightening her grip on the steering wheel and staring ahead at the road.

     "It's okay, Minkowski. We can't all be winners. You can't help that you just don't have an innate talent for spotting yellow cars."

     "Just look at the map, please, and tell me how much longer we have."

     "Not far. About twenty miles." The car fell silent, Minkowski driving, Lovelace staring out the window. It was a few miles before either spoke again. 

     "Do you think we'll find her?" Minkowski asked in a cautiously restrained tone. Lovelace turned to face her.

     "I'm not saying it's impossible. But please, don't expect too much. Hope causes a hell of a lot more pain than it's worth. You need to go into this prepared for disappointment."

     "Like you," Minkowski said accusingly.

     "I learned from experience," Lovelace snapped, turning to the window again. Minkowski sighed. 

     "I'm sorry. I have no right to... I shouldn't have said that."

     "Not like it's false or something."

     "Lovelace, I-"

     "Minkowski. That's enough. We're going to stop this line of thought now and focus on the task at hand. Turn left up ahead there." Minkowski hesitated, then guided the car onto a side road. "Not long now. Make a right after that sign."

     The street grew more derelict the farther they drove. It was riddled with potholes and weeds poking up through the asphalt. A metal sign that appeared to have once read "no trespassing" leaned drunkenly on its side. An imposing concrete building was just visible through the trees ahead. Minkowski pulled over a few yards ahead of the parking lot, which had a rusty gate blocking the entrance. The two women carefully helped each other over the gate and made a beeline for the building's nearest door, which looked like it had been forced open by previous trespassers.

     "Hope the stuff hasn't been looted too badly already," Lovelace commented, switching on her flashlight and stepping into the darkened building. Minkowski did the same, gazing at the corridor ahead of them. They walked along the hallway, passing a row of decrepit offices before reaching a larger metal door. 

     "This must be the entrance to the main warehouse section, then," Minkowski murmured, crouching to examine the door handle.

     "Want a lockpick?" Lovelace asked, reaching into her pocket. 

     "No need," Minkowski replied, standing up and tucking her own lockpick into her pocket with an air of surprise as the door creaked open. "It was unlocked."

     They crept into a cavernous room filled with an eclectic mix of objects ranging from practical to utterly useless. Components of VX-3 engines sat beside broken plant pots, and scattered pages from some sort of instruction manual littered the floor.

     "Wow."

     "Yeah. This might take a while."

     "Those piles over there look promising- lots of circuit-y things and monitors and whatnot," Minkowski said, gesturing to her left at a pile of electronics stacked Tetris-style. 

     "It's as good a place to start as any." They made their way over to the stacks, looking them up and down appraisingly. 

     "So... What exactly are we going to do with all these? It's a lot of computers to sort through. Do you remember what model we put Hera in when we were packing? She had a numeric keypad and that little screen, or something?" Lovelace asked, examining a device on top of the pile.

     "Something like that, but Goddard could have given her a different form. We should check everything here, just in case."

     "How? They're not plugged into anything, and even the best battery couldn't last forty years." Minkowski looked around, brow furrowed, until her eyes fell on a nearby electrical socket and a small mound of assorted cords.

     "We can just plug them in there and try to boot them up one by one."

     "That looks incredibly hazardous, in addition to the fact that it will take an awfully long time," Lovelace said, eyeing the power cords, which were in varying states of decay.

     "Got any other ideas?"

     "Touché."

     It was slow going. They dragged over a few computers at a time, plugging each one in with the least frayed cord availible. The first computer steadfastly refused to turn on. As did the second. Ditto the third. And the fourth.

     "Eleventh time's the charm?" Lovelace suggested, plugging the cracked monitor into the wall. She and Minkowski watched hopefully as the screen flickered to life, and subsequently let out a frustrated groan in unison as an error message was displayed. Lovelace sighed, unplugging the computer and shoving it to the side before turning to select another from the slowly shrinking pile.

     "Okay, twelfth time lucky, right, Minkowksi? Hand me that electrocution waiting to happen, would you? Minkowski?" She turned to see Minkowski standing with her back to her, shoulders shaking slightly. 

     "Hey. Minkowski, you okay? Are you- are you, um-"

     "Why. Why are we even doing this?" Minkowski asked in a thick voice, not looking up. "What was I thinking? There's no way we're going to find Hera. None of these computers even work, and even if they did, they're probably not AIs anyway. And even if she were, at some point, here somewhere, who's to say she's even work still? What if we already plugged her in and- and threw her with the broken ones because- be- because-" a tear fell softly onto a circuit board. "We're  ~~~~just on some wild goose chase. Why did I ever think we could-"

     "Minkowski. It's okay." Lovelace reached over and hugged her tightly, causing the tears to fall even faster. "It's okay to cry, it's okay to get discouraged, but it's not over yet. We still have a lot of ground to cover, and if we don't succeed today, we'll make a new plan. Failure is really just getting one step closer to your goal, according to Pryce and Carter tip number... something." Minkowski gave a shaky laugh.

     "Two-hundred-seventeen," she said quietly, voice muffled somewhat by the fact that her face was still buried in Lovelace's shoulder.

     "Pardon?"

     "Pryce and Carter 217. 'Don't get discouraged. Failure is a synonym for progress, except in matters of life and death.'" Lovelace raised her eyebrows. 

     "Impressive. After all this time."

     "Well, 'protocol is important and applicable in all areas of life, not just space travel,' or so the preface says," Minkowski quoted wryly, looking up at Lovelace with a small smile. Lovelace laughed. 

     "I don't really know what to say to that. My crew made a drinking game out of Pryce and Carter. It used to annoy Lambert to no end." She smiled at the memory. "Anyway. You ready to dig through more dusty computers, Minkowski?"

     "Ready as I'll ever be."

 

\---

 

     Two hours later, they had traversed nearly the entire warehouse with no success. A fair amount of the computers had been in good working condition, but none of them were Hera, or any other AI for that matter.

     "I guess it's not that surprising that we haven't found anyone," Minkowski grunted, pushing a large box of assorted computer components over to Lovelace. "Hera only made it off the Hephaestus because we brought her, not through any magnanimity from Goddard." 

     "They must have just left them all to rot up there. God, those poor things." They worked in solemn silence for a while, pausing only to fetch another box. Lovelace was sorting through a pile of hard drives when she heard Minkowski take a sharp breath. She turned to see her cradling a medium-sized metal device with a small screen and a speaker that looked like it was originally part of a handheld recorder. 

     "I- I think... Hang on." Minkowski turned over the box until she found it: one of the sides was marked with a peeling piece of masking tape, on which some faded writing was barely visible.  _Hera, USS Hephaestus,_ it read, in the distinctive messy scrawl of a certain communications officer.  _Handle with care._

     "Oh my god."

     "Holy-"

     "Where're the-"

     "Here." Lovelace scrambled to hand Minkowski the right wires. They fumbled to untangle them and Minkowski plugged the small computer in with shaky hands. The two women waited with bated breath, staring at the black screen. It flashed briefly, and Minkowski jumped back and grabbed Lovelace's arm, startled. Neither dared to speak as the small machine began to whir and wheeze. The screen flickered to life, and Lovelace gave a victorious shout, clapping Minkowski on the back as she leaned forward to read the words on the display. 

     "It's a security question," Minkowski said, looking back at Lovelace. "What Pryce and Carter tip, by number, did Minkowski forget?" she read, rolling her eyes. "Of course Eiffel would never let me forget that, the insufferable..." Lovelace looked on as Minkowski typed the number 555 on the small keypad, causing another loading screen to appear.

     "Wow. Shameful, Minkowski, shameful. To  _forget a Pryce and Carter tip?_ It's unthinkable," Lovelace said, suppressing laughter.

     "To this day, it's my greatest failure," Minkowski said sardonically. "Seriously, though, why wouldn't Goddard have just hacked their way in and shut her down? They could have if they wanted to. This seems..."

     "Fishy? It does. But I doubt there'll be any problems. They've been out of operation for decades."

     "I suppose. Maybe they were in a rush to cover their tracks for the lawsuit, so they just dumped her here? In any case-" Minkowski gestured at the device, which had begun to buzz. There was a cheerful  _ding,_ and the screen displayed a new message:  _STARTUP SEQUENCE COMPLETED._ Minkowski and Lovelace shared a tense look, hardly daring to breathe, and Minkowski asked a cautious question.

     "Hera? Are you there? Can you hear me?" A silence. A mechanical buzzing. A pause that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. A voice, glitching and muffled, sounding in that moment like the most beautiful song.

     "C-Commander Minkowski? Is that you?"

     Minkowski let out a strangled sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh. "Yes, yes, it's me, oh my god, Hera! We thought... Are you okay? Are you- you're here! It's you, you're... you're alive!"

     "I'm fine, Commander Minkowski. Why wouldn't I be? Is everything okay? Hang on, I'm trying to get my optical- there! I got... um..."

     "Hera? Are you-" 

     "I'm fine. Hi, by the way, Captain Lovelace."

     "Hi, Hera. It's good to see you."

     "Same to you. So, um, maybe my camera is acting up again, but just judging from what I'm seeing right now, it kind of looks like we're in some sort of, er, warehouse and both of you have aged about forty years. But that can't be right, because that would mean... No. That would mean I've been..." Minkowski and Lovelace's expressions confirmed her suspicions. "I've been shut off for a long time, haven't I?" 

     "They took you away after the first press conference. We were all weak and disoriented and they just... I'm sorry, Hera. I failed you."

     "It wasn't your fault," Lovelace murmured. "We were all there, we should have been-"

     "It doesn't matter," Hera snapped. "No amount of should-haves will change anything. This is... I really don't know what to make of this, if I'm honest. I've missed so much time, but it feels like yesterday we were... It's a lot to take in." Lovelace placed a hand hesitantly, reassuringly, on the computer.

     "I- I know how you feel, Hera. I mean, forty years makes two look like the blink of an eye, but you... you're not alone."

     "Thanks, Captain Lovelace. I appreciate it," Hera said softly. "So, four decades. Did I miss any-"

     "Quiet!" Minkowski hissed, looking around with trepidation. "Sorry to interrupt, but I could have sworn I heard..."

     "Footsteps. Coming closer," Lovelace confirmed, listening carefully. "Do you think it's just another trespasser, or..."

     "Someone else? I don't know, but I'd rather not find out. Let's get out of here."

     Lovelace picked up Hera and began to tiptoe cautiously beside Minkowski, the two being careful not to make too much noise as they headed for the exit. They picked their way across the warehouse floor, and were just turning a corner around a large pile of scrap metal when they saw the beam of a flashlight.

     "Run!" They pushed onwards, and heard the footsteps behind them give chase. They reached the exit and Minkowski wrenched the door open, leading Lovelace and Hera out to the parking lot. 

     "Come on, almost there!" Minkowski wheezed, scrambling to find her keys. She reached the car and unlocked it, throwing the back door open before clambering into the front seat and starting the car. Lovelace and Hera lagged behind, the former struggling to keep up while the latter shouted encouragement. Minkowski looked back at the warehouse to see a tall man wielding a flashlight burst out the door and sprint after Lovelace and Hera. 

     "Run! You're nearly there, come on!" Minkowski yelled frantically. Lovelace gritted her teeth and took a few more strides before throwing herself and Hera across the back seat of the car,

     "Drive! Go, get out of here!" Lovelace screamed hoarsely. Minkowski started to drive just as the man got to the car, reaching out for the still-open door. Lovelace kicked him squarely in the face and sent him reeling away as Minkowski floored the gas. They sped out of the parking lot and onto the main roads, leaving the man and warehouse far behind.

 

\---

 

     They stopped at a gas station after about a half hour of driving. Lovelace stepped shakily out of the car and began to fill it with gas as Minkowski sat back wearily, reluctantly taking her hands off the wheel. 

     "Who knew your old car would make such a good getaway vehicle, eh?" Lovelace said tensely, still short of breath. 

     "Do you think he saw our faces?" Minkowski asked, eyes fixed on the road they had come from. "He could have gotten the license plate number, or-"

     "There's really nothing we could do about that except ditch the car, which doesn't really seem worth it. And anyway, if he's security, he must see a lot of trespassers. Maybe we wouldn't be very memorable?" Lovelace didn't sound as though she believed it herself. 

     "Yes, just two elderly women stealing something that best resembles a microwave," Hera chimed in dryly. "I'm sure he's nearly forgotten about it already." 

     There was a dull  _thunk_ as Lovelace disconnected the gas pump. She climbed stiffly back into the car, wincing as she did so. "Decreased bone density just goes so well with frantic sprinting," she observed sarcastically.

     "And we actually did our space exercises," Minkowski grumbled, stretching. 

     "Well, we  _were_ in space for a lot longer than the recommended time," Hera said. "I don't think this outcome was realistically avoidable, exercise or not. No doubt Goddard knew exactly what they were doing, which is... not surprising, in retrospect."

     "What inspiring words of encouragement. They're so comforting coming from someone with no bones."

     "Anytime, Captain. So, Commander, what are we going to do now?" 

     "Go home, I suppose. We can decide on the next step after a meal and a good night's sleep," Minkowski said, pulling onto the road again. "Hera, you can stay at my house if you want."

     "Thanks, commander. I was actually planning on renting a hotel room, but I'm sure we could work something out," Hera said brightly. Lovelace snorted with laughter. "Sorry, Commander. I just couldn't help myself," Hera continued gently. "Thank you for your generosity."

     "No problem, Hera. I'm sure anyone would do the same for their crew. Pryce and Carter- well, anyway."

     Lovelace grinned. "Aw, come on, Minkowski. I was curious to see which one you were going to quote."

     "Guess you'll just have to live the rest of your life with the suspense of not knowing, then," Minkowski jested. She paused for a moment. "Lovelace, do you have any plans at all this evening?" Lovelace shrugged. 

     "No. You can just drop me off at my place, I'll give you the directions-"

     "Why don't you have dinner with us? Catch up, go over what we know so far and plan our next move if we feel up to it? My husband is a very good cook."

     Lovelace hesitated. "I wouldn't want to intrude. I'm sure he-" 

     "Would be delighted to meet you. I don't mean to make you feel any pressure, but you're more than welcome to stay for dinner."

     "If it's really no trouble..."

     "None at all."

     "Thank you. I suppose it would be nice to take a break. It's been quite an interesting day."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously I have no idea how computers actually work so this was basically just them plugging things in and I said "hard drive" somewhere in there so it's really ~accurate and realistic~  
> I know that as of current canon, Minkowski is called "lieutenant" by Hera, and they probably wouldn't have changed that while transferring Hera's consciousness to take to earth, but I just couldn't have a writing full of "Lieutenant Minkowski," so, yknow, "commander" it is.


End file.
